Ibrox icon was as comfortable at Celtic Park

It almost feels a bit symbolic now.

Of all the places to last see and speak to Walter Smith, the boardroom at Celtic Park wasn’t where I’d envisaged. But it’s true.

In a week of immense sadness, with literally hundreds of stories and moments that epitomise him, this is merely another.

The greatest Rangers manager of the modern era was just as comfortable at the home of their greatest rivals, surrounded by pictures of Jock Stein, the Lisbon Lions and the European Cup.

In January last year, he was there to support Billy McNeill’s family, who were launching the legendary Celtic captain’s dementia charity after his tragic death eight months earlier.

Smith and McNeill were cut from the same cloth. One a staunch Ranger, the other a passionate Celt, but both had an innate ability to carry themselves with dignity and class in any environment.

When Smith was asked to help that day at Parkhead, he wouldn’t have had a second thought.

The press were also invited, and you never turned down the possibility of getting five minutes in his company.

For some reason, I was the only Sunday newspaper journalist there, so effectively last in the queue behind photographers, broadcast and the daily boys.

It was a waiting game. The chance to interview Walter Smith on my own would always be worth it.

But then he took a call from his wife Ethel. She was out shopping and her car had broken down.

Her husband’s priority now, understandably, was to go and help.

I was gutted. My chance appeared to be gone.

He wasn’t going to bother with the solitary Sunday guy after seeing all the others.

But as he walked towards the door, he clocked me and remembered that I’d asked him earlier for just a few minutes of his time.

So he stopped and, in typical fashion, said:

Players wanted to play for Walter

‘Right, c’mon let’s get this done’.

We did a short piece on Scotland, then he was off to help Ethel.

He didn’t need to give me his time, especially in those circumstances. And trust me, I’ve been snubbed by far lesser men.

But he did it out of respect, generosity and the fact he was just a decent human being.

Smith’s greatest quality as a person, in my experience, was his humility. His best trait as a gaffer? That’s simple, and it’s one that seems to get forgotten in the endless debates nowadays about managers and their failings.

Players wanted to play for Smith.

Listen to any of his Nine-in-a-row team in the aftermath of his passing. Ally McCoist, Richard Gough, Stuart McCall, all spoke about it this week. The fear of letting him down. They’d have run through a brick wall for him.

That’s the most valuable commodity any manager can have.

Fans also had complete trust in him. Again, such a rarity in the modern game.

One Ibrox fan encapsulated it perfectly in a tweet shortly after news had filtered through that he was gone. He said: ‘With Walter Smith, you always felt safe when he was in charge of your team’.

What a tribute that is and they’re right. For his 11 years in charge at Ibrox, Rangers fans knew they’d be successful. In the same period, Celtic supporters knew they had a fight on their hands.

Their respect for Smith, as a manager on the other side of the city, will probably never be surpassed in the context of the Old Firm.

He was one of that rare breed who could bridge the great divide, like John Greig, Jimmy Johnstone, Tommy Burns, Jim Baxter, Ally McCoist – and McNeill.

That’s why Smith was at Celtic Park that day because there aren’t many of his ilk left.

So it’s important we honour the ones we’ve lost and cherish those who are still here.